Fight or Flight
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: Andrea needs to make a break for it from Woodbury, after hearing of the Governor's plans to destroy the prison. She's shortly out of range when Merle confronts her with a surprising change of heart. For Lamia


**Written For:**

\- Drabble Game Challenge, Merle/Andrea (prompt #19), for Lamia

 **Word Count:** 894

* * *

Andrea pressed herself flat to the door of a rusty, abandoned van, trying to ignore how hot the metal was against her back and neck. She could hear male voices in the distance, hear footsteps on the dusty ground, and smell the danger in the air.

She cursed herself for being as stupid as to fall for the Governor's golden tongue. He had fed her and the rest of the people of Woodbury lies, and she couldn't take it anymore. Watching him throw walkers to fight with men was one thing, but when she had discovered the horrors that he kept within his office…

Andrea shuddered to even think about it.

No, she had to leave. She had to get back to the prison and warn Rick and the rest of the group what the Governor had planned. She had overheard him talking with Merle in a heated tone about how he planned to overtake the prison, using the tank they had hidden. _Really,_ Andrea had thought, when the Governor had mentioned the tank. _Surely that's a joke?_ But she'd seen it with her own eyes, whilst several of his men were packing it with supplies. He really did plan to blow a hole through the solid foundations of the prison.

Andrea had thought of the baby. She thought of the kids, of Beth and Carl and the others. She thought of _Michonne,_ the woman who had rescued her when she was alone and stranded, who allowed her to camp with her even though Andrea posed a risk to the secluded lifestyle that Michonne had back then.

The thought of the insane Governor tearing the life away from all of her loved ones was horrible, as though he had already aimed the tank's gun at her and shot it straight through her heart. She couldn't just sit back and allow this to happen.

While she was wading around in the sludge of her own brain, she didn't notice that someone had crept upon her hiding place. She didn't realise until a shadow fell across her vision, and she spun around, reaching for the gun in the waistband of her pants.

"Hey, little lady." It was the hoarse, familiar voice of Merle. He had such a quiet voice, but his words held a lot of weight. His eyes were twinkling and he was holding his arms up in surrender, but the prosthetic with its deadly appendage gleamed in a sinister manner. There was something about the way he stood, a little too cocky for her liking, as though he was mocking her. "You don't wanna fire that, girl, not unless you wanna let the others know you're here."

Andrea's hand remained on her gun, but she didn't remove it. Her eyes narrowed, never leaving Merle. "What are you doing here?"

"Governor sent me lookin' for you, girl. Said he's not been able to find you all day. Worried you might…" his voice lowered, but he was still wearing that shit-eating grin. "…be thinking about runnin' back to the prison."

Andrea opened her mouth to retaliate, but found that no words came. Finally, she realised that she couldn't think of a good enough excuse. "Please, Merle," she croaked, dropping to her knees. "Don't tell him. He'll kill me. He'll kill them all."

Merle grabbed her by the shoulder with his good hand and pulled her back behind the van. Andrea realised that the rest of the voices had drawn closer.

"Merle? Where you at?"

"She's not around here, boys!" Merle shouted, and Andrea breathed a sigh of relief when the footsteps retreated.

"You're _helping_ me?" Andrea murmured, clutching at the front of Merle's grubby tank. "But I heard you talking with him. About blowing out the prison wall."

"Well, I ain't about to stand there and disagree with him, am I? Girl, I thought you were smarter than that."

"I don't understand. Are you coming back with me?"

"Can't do that," Merle shook his head. "No, I gotta stay here and make sure he doesn't think _you've_ gone back there. But you're gonna go there and tell my brother what he's gonna do. Then you're gonna make sure Daryl gets the hell out of there before shit goes down."

"I'll…I'll tell him. But what about you? What if he finds out that you've let me go?"

Merle grinned again. "Nothin' that can be done if he does."

"He'll kill you."

Merle shrugged. "Just get the message to Daryl."

Andrea threw her arms around Merle suddenly, resisting the urge to give into the lump at the back of her throat and cry. When she pulled away, she stared at him for a little while, as though she was trying to memorise every smudge of dirt, every laugh line, every wrinkle.

"What you starin' at? Ain't you got a job to do?"

Andrea smiled. "You're gonna be fine. And I'm sorry for staring. It's just that you have a face I'm contemplating sitting on later. You know, when all of this is over." She stood up and gave Merle a playful punch, before checking to make sure the coast was clear. "I'll see you soon, Merle," she added, in a more serious tone this time.

Merle nodded, slightly gravely, and watched as Andrea sprinted off into the wooded area a short distance away. He hoped she was right.


End file.
